I Can't
by shipstosetsail
Summary: An angsty one-shot. Beca realizes her conflicting emotions for Chloe and learns more about love. Demonstrates the craziness that can be resulted from falling in love with someone and the uncertainty of it all.


"Chloe. Please fuckin' say something right now," I screamed at her as tears ran down my face. I was sobbing and I pretty sure I sounded like a dying cow, but damn, I just professed my love to her and she was just standing there silent and wide eyed-oh shit, her beautiful goddamn cerulean Disney eyes. "Chlo, please?" I begged to her, not handling the public attention to myself at all as I stood there, waiting for her response that I was expecting her-hoping that she would-say: Yes, I love you, it has always been you.

Instead, the love of my life whispered, "I can't," and bolted out of the claustrophobic club. She ran away. The room seemed to have tilted one time to the left and another to the right, and continued on continuously; my feet couldn't find its balance. My mind echoed with images of Chloe's caught-in-the-headlights facial expression and the bitter whispers of her rejection.

I was left trying to follow her, but I stumbled and fell to my knees because the tears in my eyes blocked so much of my vision as I tried to descend the stage. That was when I gave up trying because the pain of everything, my heartbreak and my now bruising knees, prevented me from getting back up and chasing after her.

I can't, she said. As in she does love me but just can't. It was because her fucking parents instilled the idea of being gay was like some sort of bullshit disease. She wanted to live this perfect life, and the only thing that got in the way was my stupid second X chromosome.

I wouldn't blame her for leaving. She had a life going for her: she was finishing up med school and was going to become a hot-ass doctor; she had an affluent man waiting for her back home, one who could support her financially, and my little bastard self, who was barely scratching the attention of small clubs and couldn't provide stable income or proper basic living necessities like food and shelter, was holding her back from all of it. I rolled into the fetal position feeling as though my chest had exploded open with the only thing remaining was my fractured heart pumping and thumping painfully in attempt to relieve my brain from too much strain from emotional stress.

Deliberate and dainty hands fell upon my shoulders and pushed me upon my back. I couldn't breathe. Instead of the green-eyed blonde that leaned over me, I saw blue eyes and a red fiery mane. "Beca?" she called. Although reality tried to explain me otherwise, my heart believed Chloe came back and took me into her arms. I could already smell her scent as she gripped me and my face fell into the crevice in between her neck and shoulder: sweet, sweet strawberries. I was weak and limp, but my heart was running fast and hard at the idea of Chloe hugging me.

Chloe turned and screamed something out toward the crowd and I felt my body being torn away from my love. "No!" I yelled but it was muffled by the sobs in the back of my throat. "Don't leave me!" My eyes bore into the sad sparkling eyes of Chloe, but as I moved further and further away, her features altered to look more of Aubrey. My heart stopped in that moment, bringing sharp internal pain stinging throughout every tissue and cell in my body at the realization Chloe Beale certainly did not come back for me, like my mom, like my dad, like everyone I have ever loved.

Everything became numb. All of my efforts and struggle and pain given up to the redhead essentially resulted with me reaching a state of nothingness and non-existence. Why did I waste my time trying offer up my tired love? Why didn't I leave once I found out what I was put into? Right, it was because of my blind love towards the undeniably attractive and addicting Chloe Beale.

Being loved is the most beautiful feeling. Any negative emotion such as jealousy, abandonment, and anger withers away with the presence of love. Chloe made me feel like I was loved. She completely obliterated through my walls of security and came barging in, crossing boundaries that I never thought would ever be intruded on. She was the one who wanted to know more about me while others were put off by my rough and distant personality. She gave me a chance and so I fell hard and fast for her. To thank her for offering me such an opportunity of feeling special, I wanted to return the love to her.

For every ounce of happiness from love, however, is accompanied with pain, hand-in-hand, inseparable, inevitable. Love was about sacrifices and selflessness. When I wanted to love Chloe back, I didn't take in the consideration that boundaries and defenses were still built up, not from me, but from her. While it was completely okay for her to push me to the edge of my comfort, I-some pathetic chick that had once had no fucks about how I treated people-had to be cautious to not step over any of her lines. Yes, it was unfair, to offer so much to someone and here I am hurting like fuck because I don't have the same luxury of receiving the same amount of love that I have given to her. No, I have to secretly share her with the parents' favorite rich boy Tom Calvin. I get not all of her love, just a portion of it, and that is so not fair, not to me, to stupid Tom Calvin, to her parents, her future, to herself for not being completely honest about her feelings.

Love is a two-faced bitch and I wished it never have walked up to me and made me sign its evil contract. If I didn't, I would be lonely yes, but numb. Not crying. Not hurt. Just nothing. I would not be some pathetic hopeless puppet because a hot redhead played with my heart. But at the same time, I would have never felt the complete euphoria when I was with Chloe, that immaculate feeling of being loved by her . This confusing stupid-ass emotion has become the death of me. But I was a lost cause. I would give anything for Chloe out of deep love and if it meant honoring her boundaries and being patient, I would do that. If it meant letting her go on dinner dates with Tom, and allowing him to run his fingers down the red hair that I love to touch, to hold the soft hands that I love to hold, and to kiss the lips that I fucking wish I could make out with, I would let that happen! If it meant suppressing my true pain for her happiness, then damn me, I would do it.

The muscular arms that once held me up had finally set me down upon a lumpy couch that I recalled was in the backstage lounge room. I felt like shit.

"Becaw, c'mon, I hate seeing you like this," my carrier sat down beside where my feet were, dipping the couch at that end. Jesse's pained voice struck a chord to my heart and made me cry some more tears. I have cried in front of him before, circumstances that all resulted from my emotional struggles with Chloe, but this, by far, was the worst I have ever cried-because crap, it was the worst heart break I have ever experienced. "Please, stop, Becs. What can I do to make you feel better?" Jesse whimpered.

Make Chloe come back, leave Tom and her perfect future, destroy her parents dreams, and tell me she can love me back, I yelled inside my head while rubbing the tears off my face. It is stupid, I know. After all this bullshit you would think I would hate that blue-eyed redheaded beauty, but nope, I fell in way too deep.

"Hey, babe, how is she holding up?" asked a concerned Aubrey as she moved a loose strand of my hair behind my ear. In response, I flinched away from her touch, remembering how I strongly believed that she was Chloe in moments not too long ago. I was embarrassed for throwing myself at her like that, but I was kind of shy because she, the first person who ever had the will to challenge me, had just witnessed me in my most vulnerable state because of her redhead of a best friend.

"'Brey why is she here?" Jesse demanded all of a sudden, protectively standing up in front of me, arms crossed.

Chloe?

My eyes widened and tried to find the person who caused all my emotional pain, but all my pure blissful happiness as well. At first, I couldn't find her, so I perked up in search of her. "Chloe? Chloe?" I called out desperately, pathetic, I know.

"Beca. I don't think you should-Beca wait-Stop," Jesse tried, setting his hands upon my shoulders. He tried to push me away from walking towards Chloe, but it was too late. Locked onto those mesmerizing blue eyes, I shoved aside Jesse and stood in front of that tall beautiful redhead.

"Chloe," I sighed unhealthily in a trance. I was hurting so much, why did it all go away at the sight of the her? She was the one who caused all of the pain.

Her face grimaced at the trembling of my voice, but she responded with a simple "Beca." That was all and it was music, I wanted her to keep talking. Please! But her eyes studied me, probably pitying how my make up was a mess, my face was blotchy and red, and eyes were all puffy. No other words left her lips and it was killing me. Her silence left me lost in my skeptical and anxious thoughts and it was probably worse than her simply rejecting me and leaving me there. She kept swaying nervously, allowing herself to get distracted by the smallest things, like sadly watching her friends close the door behind them, leaving her to fix this mess.

"Chloe," I repeated, hoping it would urge her to say something. I then took the time to look at her and not think, just to study her expression and memorize each little freckle on her porcelain skin. Her face was flushed, probably from crying as well. Although it immediately made me sad, deep inside me I was overjoyed that she felt pain as well. I wasn't the only one suffering in this situation.

She closed her eyes, bracing herself, probably trying to convince herself to say what she wanted to. She let go of a shaky breath. "Beca," her voice began melodiously despite the anxiety that was growing within me, "I do love you, I do. But I know you hate me now, I mean, why wouldn't you? It's just-just-that-" and she stopped.

Boom.

Boom.

Boom. Went my heart.

Damn her. Boom. Boom. Boom.

Why wasn't she speaking? Boom. Boom. Boom.

Blue eyes. Boom. Boom.

Red hair. Boom. Boom.

Flawless skin. Boom.

Rosy lips. Boomboom.

Her breathe. Boomboom.

Her scent. Boomboom.

I became breathless.

Boomboom-boomboom.

I licked my lips.

Boomboom-boomboom.

Her lips...

Boomboom-boomboom-BOOM!

My lips were on hers, and my hands shot up to tangle through her red locks. Boomboomboomboom. She gasped for a second and immediately returned the urgency and passion of the kiss. Her hands gripped onto my sides, pulling me closer to her. Our torsos were against each other, nose bumping one another, and lips smacking loud. Boomboomboomboom. Her hands slid down my butt and lifted me from my thighs. I felt her biceps flex and I was now straddling her. I swiped my tongue on her bottom lip and instantaneously, she moaned. Goddamn. Boomboomboomboomboom. We were both panting for air, but we both knew, if we pulled apart we wouldn't have the nerve to say anything, that this would be the end of this glorious moment, our first kiss after finally knowing how we felt about each other. Chloe was getting tired and walked over to the couch still carrying me. She fell back onto the cushions and I bounced onto her lap, rubbing slightly against her, both of us moaned at the rough and sporadic contact. Boomboomboom-boom.

She kissed my neck. Licked the skin. And bit it. Ahhhhh… And she did it another time. It stung, I cried out, and then she licked it again to sooth the pain. During all that, my hands were frantically unzipping the back of her dress. So. Fucking. Hot. Ahhhh… she nipped again. I pulled her face away from my neck and back to my lips, her luscious lips tasted of strawberries. God, I loved her so much. Ahhh… she bit my lip. Then she swiped it with a lick. Shit.

I was moaning and breathing hard, but I shook my head as a new form of confidence was taking over me. I was so sick of letting her-everybody-think that she can just take control of me. No. "Stop," I lamely croaked as I slightly shoved her shoulders back from me, ripping her lips from my skin. She was shocked at my sudden power, but I shook my head, "Don't speak, babe," I replied much more appropriately, holding her face in my hands, focusing on her baby blues, "I guess I know now. You love me, always did, but you are just too weak to stand up for yourself. You wanted reassurance right? That's why you chose to adhere to your parents' aspirations and wishes than follow your own dreams; it was all for acceptance, that you can please your parents. You knew I accepted you though-it was more than acceptance-I offered you everything that I can give and you could have just been satisfied with that. But no, you needed more, and I understand, it is because you want to make your parents happy, but realize that your life is not for them, it is for you. And if you want reassurance, I am here, always, for you. I will gladly oblige to you and your wishes, but this is only hurting you. You are not being honest with yourself, so I say just make a decision right now. Stay...with me, where you probably will be pissing so many people off, especially your parents, but there is a chance of making things work. Or pretend to be happy with Tom McLovin' and give the utmost joy to your parents, but then you have to leave me the hell alone. Babe, I love you, but can't you see this-whatever this _thing_ our relationship is-it is destroying me. I don't want to waste away the shredded pieces of my heart to you anymore, so choose, please. If you love me, make a decision right now because I need to know!"

My voice was shaking, and I was scared out of my mind to finally hear her decision.

"I can't." She whispered. But no one ran. No. We sat there, still, unsure of what to do next.


End file.
